Relinquat Omnia
by Madigan Keen
Summary: Having recently moved to Washington, Dave Strider is the classic Cool New Kid (TM) at Zahhak Private High School, an expensive, fancy school that his Bro is sure will keep him out of trouble. He finds friends easily enough, but what about the skinny, geeky-looking kid who's always bumping into him in the halls? Where does he fit into the newly re-vamped life of Dave Strider?


Your name is John Egbert, and right now you really want to die.

Well, maybe not _die_ per se; that sounds like it would be painful. Maybe it'd be better to say that you would like to _disappear_. Yeah, that sounds much better. You want to pop out of existence and just not _be_ anymore. That would pretty much solve all of your problems; your body wouldn't hurt, and your mind wouldn't be such a fucking mess like it is now...Well, technically, you suppose, it just wouldn't exist so...would you actually be able to enjoy not existing if you didn't exist? Some small, quasi-logical part of your brain whispers "_Probably not."_

Then, a larger and even _more_ logical part of your brain screams at you that you're taking this train of thought _way_ too seriously, and it doesn't actually matter because you're fucking insane either way. Besides, you've got real, physical injuries that need tending to. You're pretty sure you've got a nosebleed, and it'll be a damn miracle if the punch that gave it to you has spared you the black eye to match. I'll be hard enough to hide the slight blood stains in your white t-shirt, and you really don't want to have to deal with trying to explain away a black eye in addition.

In the end, it takes you about three minutes to collect yourself enough to stand up from your position, slumped against the bathroom wall, using the sink to your immediate le totally hypothetical scenario, you'd think about how one day some poor kid like yourself for support. It creaks dully under your weight as you lean on it after standing, and maybe if you were a little more artistic, you'd compare it to yourself. The sink, that is. Even though it's, y'know a sink, ou'd think it was a perfect representation of you, with its quiet calls of pain that no one can really hear or pay attention to. In this 100% totally hypothetical scenario, you'd think about how one day some poor kid like you will lean on this sink and it'll be too much and it'll break right off the wall like the shitty piece of hardware that it is.

But hey, you're not quite that creative. Or that weird, for that matter. Who the hell makes up metaphors about bathroom sinks anyway? Certainly not you.

So you move on, totally ignorant of the beautifully strange and perfect sink analogy, and go to get some toilet paper for your nose (because you were right, and it's definitely bleeding). Once you're cleaned up (by way of a rather boring process that we don't actually need to discuss in great detail), you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror above the metaphor sink, and suddenly all that crap you were thinking about earlier resurfaces and you go back to wanting to die. Except not die.

What would it be like, you think, if you didn't exist? Would your bullies—the ones who just held you down and punched you in the face and kicked you in the ribs and _ow_ shit stop thinking about it it _hurts—_would they find some other kid to toss around? Or is it just you that they hate? That good ol' logical part of your mind speaks up again and tells you that its probably the former. Maybe its right, and you shouldn't take it personally...but when they start throwing around words like "fag" and "princess" and "queer"...you can't _not_ take that shit personally.

"I...I'm not a homosexual," you whisper to yourself, staring into the reflection of your own eyes with frail conviction. Despite the certainty with which you're _sure_ you said it, it still sounds like the biggest damn lie you've ever heard. So you say it again, just a little louder. "I'm _not_ a homosexual!" It's louder and harsher and you want to believe that you sound convincing, but you know you don't. It's just as much of a fucking lie as the first time and you know it. You know, they know it, and _everybody fucking knows it_.

And for a moment, you stop to think, maybe you _do_ deserve it. Maybe those assholes who get so much enjoyment out of kicking your shit in are actually _justified_, like righteous retribution or something like that. Maybe you deserve the beatings and the teasing and_ everything_ because you're just a big ol' queer. A fag. A princess. A freak. The "logic" in your head is screaming at you now that that's not true, but you ignore it. Why else would they target you specifically unless you'd done something to deserve it? You're WRONG and PERVERSE and a FREAK and oh god you're hyperventilating. You're panicking. Your breath is short and your face is stained with salty tears that make your eyes burn. The blood from your nose is mingling with snot and its disgusting, but you can't do anything about it with your shaking hands and pathetic, hysterical sobbing. You give up on trying to clean yourself and simply collapse onto the floor, burying your face in your arms like a child. God damn, you're so pathetic.

You lie there against the cold, clammy tile of the bathroom floor for what feels like an eternity (but is probably only a few minutes) while our body stops spazzing out. When you finally blink your way past bleary vision and stinging tears, you register that you aren't able to make a sound. You've stopped completely, and you've got a bad feeling that this can_not_ be good.

You force air out of your lungs, trying to groan just a little, to see whether or not you _can_. All that escapes you is a tiny squeak, and nothing else. You try again opening your mouth in the vague hope that it will help. It doesn't.

Your name is John Egbert, and right now you think that a part of you is already dead.

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**A/N: This is the first Homestuck thing I've posted I think :P I've literally just gotten back on the scene, so don't be surprised to see more things from me in the future.**

**Follow me on tumblr at selectivesnark, or message me if you want. This fic will also be posted on my tumblr and my AO3 (also selectivesnark).**

**Please Review and Share :D**


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